


Landslide

by Zenith931



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-06-23
Packaged: 2018-11-18 01:57:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11281359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zenith931/pseuds/Zenith931
Summary: Funny banter because my female Inquisitor can't take Iron Bull anywhere.





	Landslide

It took a few long minutes to clear the rubble out from around Cassandra enough that she could be pulled free. The whole Cliffside had collapsed on top of the team after clearing through a Red Templar camp in Emprise du Leon. Most of the avalanche was snow, but there were definitely a few bodies scattered around that weren’t getting up.

Aren stood back, watching with Cassandra and Dorian as Iron Bull’s cries rung out through the valley. She couldn’t help but watch with a very amused expression and smirked a few times as his cries became a little plaintive.

“Boss? A little help? C’mon, my horn is stuck on… I don’t know what it’s stuck on. But help a guy out!” Iron Bull’s one eye couldn’t look at her because of his head’s angle, but she imagined that he was trying his best to give her a sad puppy, or qunari face.

“No, no. You got yourself into this mess. You can get yourself out.” 

Cassandra gave a disgusted grunt, “He got us into that mess, too.”

Iron Bull was seated on the floor of the valley with half of his body covered in various pieces of rubble, snow and ice. It was obvious that he wasn’t seriously injured, but his head was cocked at an interesting angle due to a pile of ice-encrusted snow which had pinned his head, shoulder and arm underneath it. Due to his positioning, he simply didn’t have the balance and leverage to get up. His legs were free, and his other arm was fine after he wrenched it from the snow bank. But he couldn’t reach the other side of himself to dig himself out, and so he sat, his head half-obscured by snow, whining at his group.

“Do hurry up. It’s freezing out here and I think your cowing is attracting attention.” Dorian quipped.

Aren laughed in an almost maniacal fashion, “He does seem like he’s moo-ing a bit, doesn’t he?” She was obviously poking on Bull’s somewhat bovine traits.

“Horns, appearance, his sounds…” Cassandra picked up on Aren’s train of thought and continued on, “Even his name!”

Dorian chuckled a bit, flicking a bit of melting snow off of his shoulder. He had erected a semi-transparent layer of faint flames all around him. He had been getting in the habit of doing this regularly in Emprise du Leon because of the cold. After a few discussions of it’s durability and range, Aren and Cassandra had determined it had no real benefit besides keeping him warm. A push from Iron Bull had even demonstrated it wasn’t a very good barrier or armor. 

“Didn’t he choose his name?” Dorian asked rhetorically, “So it’s like he even knew!”

The rest of the group laughed at the predicament. Iron Bull scowled at their humor and struggled a bit against his frosty captor. A piece of ice fell from higher up and collided with his forehead. He exclaimed a bit in surprise and the rest of the team laughed louder.

Aren slung her bow on her back with her quiver and crossed her arms, “Really, Bull, if you didn’t insist on doing that charge, or were even more careful about it, you wouldn’t be in that situation. You should’ve taken into account that there was a wall of rock behind your target. It’s one of the tenants of shooting a bow; know your target and what’s beyond it.” She intoned almost from memory one of the rules her father had ingrained into her.

“It wasn’t even necessary. I had a handle on that last Red Templar and he was about to go down. He didn’t need to charge and bring the whole cliff face down on top of us.” Cassandra chastised, a little frown dragging her humor down. She had barely gotten herself out of the small avalanche in time. Aren had pulled her out since Cassandra had mostly just gotten covered in snow, but she would still be wet and cold as the snow melted on her armor and seeped into her clothing.

“Excuse me for not knowing the rules of throwing little sticks at things,” Iron Bull grunted. He vacillated between having a lot of respect for the archer’s crafts and finding them futile and useless; it usually depended on whether he was on the receiving end of the benefits.

Iron Bull whined and Dorian sharply interrupted him, “You’re lucky that the Inquisitor and I had the foresight to stand back out of range of your brutish antics.”

“You like my brutish antics!” Iron Bull yelled, struggling a bit more, his efforts were slowly making headway although it resulted in smaller cascades of snow and pebbles raining down around him.

Dorian rolled his eyes, although it was relatively common knowledge between the group at he and Iron Bull had shared beds, he still acted as if it was a secret.

Cassandra made a disgusted noise at the minor reference to the two men’s romance and shot Aren a look, it said, “I can’t believe they try to make their affairs a secret when it’s so easy to figure out.”

Aren grinned and shrugged a bit in return, then turned her attention to Iron Bull, “If you don’t get yourself out of there soon, we’re going to return to camp without you.”

Picking up on the topic, Dorian added, “Yes! Camp. Where there’s a fire, a hot meal, and that small keg of dwarven ale Cabot smuggled into our rations.” 

Iron Bull groaned at the mention of the creature comforts and struggled more. A multitude of small ice clumps and snow rained down on him in his efforts. He made a great noise and gave a great pull to free himself. In response, a larger contingent of snow crashed down, obscuring the team’s vision of Iron Bull with white. They heard a yell and when the snow settled and they could see again, they saw Iron Bull standing in thigh high detritus from the avalanche. He grunted and lifted himself up and out of the snowy enclosure. He looked relatively pleased with himself, although he was covered in snow and dirt.

Aren regarded the very dirty qunari coolly, her eyes full of humor. She was about to speak before Cassandra quipped flatly, “You look like a wet cow.”

Iron Bull’s proud countenance crumpled at the remark and at the eruption of laughter from the rest of the group. He frowned, shook off a few stubborn clumps of snow and began trudging off in the direction of camp.

The rest of the team followed after, after the laughter subsided enough for them to move.

“Well, that went splendidly. Drinks?” Dorian followed behind, his question was answered with a noise of approval from Iron Bull and more laughter from the women.


End file.
